


A Contemptible Social Climber

by emilyenrose



Category: The Chronicles of Chrestomanci - Diana Wynne Jones
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 03:32:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilyenrose/pseuds/emilyenrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they were children, Miranda and her brother plotted together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Contemptible Social Climber

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://betony.dreamwidth.org/1815.html?thread=14615#cmt14615).

When they were children, Miranda and her brother plotted together.

"I shall have a castle," said Miranda. "I shall have footmen and parlour maids--I shall have a coach with four horses, and a dress for every day of the year--I shall have diamonds and pearls and rubies for my rings--I shall have the handsomest husband in the world--"

Ralph would look up from where he was lounging by the window, stretch lazily, and smile at her. "I shall be a powerful wizard," he said. "I shall do whatever I want, and no one will stop me."

Ralph had magic lessons at his school. Miranda didn't learn any proper magic, their parents couldn't afford a governess who knew how to teach her. But when Ralph came home in the holidays he would show Miranda everything he'd learned. Miranda never doubted that he was going to be as successful a wizard as he intended to be, though as she got older she began to notice that Ralph preferred not to attempt the parts of magic that required real effort. His spells were clever rather than really impressive, and he liked to use dragon's blood to make things easier.

She never doubted that she was going to get what she wanted either. When she was seventeen and attending Society balls in turned dresses she soon came to realise--without ever exactly being told--that Ralph Argent, though a useful person to know, was not a suitable connection for the woman she intended to become. Ralph gambled; he wore loud ties; he got drunk and passed his time with the wrong kinds of women; his shoes were far too shiny; he did not-quite-appropriate things with magic. Miranda stopped associating with him in public. In private was another matter, of course. He was still her brother.

One April afternoon she heard his voice speaking to her out of the cracked hand mirror on her little dressing table. "I want to introduce you to a friend of mine," he said with a grin in his voice. "Someone I met at Cambridge. Trust me, Miranda--footmen and maids, don't think I've forgotten."

Miranda agreed. Ralph put on his soberest tie and brought his friend Cosimo to call. By 'friend', Miranda quickly realised, Ralph meant 'someone I play cards with' and possibly also 'someone who doesn't notice when I cheat'. 

Cosimo Chant should have belonged to a much more elegant set than Ralph's. He came from an old family, and he had money. He was very handsome, and he didn't dress in Ralph's vulgar, careless dandy way. The only reason he went around with Ralph was that like Ralph he was endlessly and passionately interested in magic. By the time Miranda had poured the tea, however, she knew that it was quite a different kind of interest. Cosimo liked magic because he loved the complicated scholarly twistings of it. Ralph liked magic because he loved power.

"Well, what do you think?" said Ralph, when they'd packed Cosimo off. "Not bad raw material, right? He could go far, if he bothered." He chuckled. "I think you can work with him. You've got a talent for this sort of thing. And he was rather taken with you. I happen to know he goes for glamorous brunettes. Better still if they're witches." He leered and winked. Miranda took a sip of tea. 

"Perhaps," she said.

A few days later Miranda attended a soiree. She wore a pink dress she'd made herself, copying a fashion plate. There were charms for beauty and allure sewn into all the seams, just small ones. Some of the crabby old sorceresses at these things had a terrible nose for them, but Miranda needed all the help she could get, for now. No one had noticed them yet.

Cosimo Chant arrived at the party late, dressed in black, and looking as out of place as a crow. He made a beeline for Miranda without seeming to notice the sursurrus of whispering that erupted in his wake.

"Good evening, Mr Chant," Miranda said.

Cosimo blinked at her, and his eyes flicked over her dress. "What beautiful charms," he said, and then he glanced at her face and turned bright red. "That is..."

Miranda astonished herself by laughing. And when Cosimo smiled shyly back, she thought with surprise that he might be the most handsome man she had ever seen.


End file.
